When does research become a bad thing? When writers use it as an
excuse not to start writing yet. I've seen writers spend ten
years researching a novel that not only didn't require such
exhaustive background work; it would have been better off without
it. Still other writers love doing research so much -- or at least
they say they do -- that they never write at all. It's like being
a perpetual student, staying in school, earning degree after
degree, in order to put off venturing out into the real world.

Research has its rightful place in the novel writing process
and is in fact vital to many kinds of stories. The key to keeping
it under control is to understand that there are actually two
kinds of research for the novelist; to know which kind should
be done when; and to know when not to do research at all.

Background Research

The first kind of research, the kind in which some writers mire
themselves as a means of putting off actually writing, is
background research. Background research is exactly what it
sounds like: investigating an era, a subject, an industry or
whatever is necessary in order to know enough to come up with
a believable plot for your novel.

Background research is necessary when you've got an idea for a
novel that is either set in a time or place or is about a
subject that you know so little about, you can't even begin to
construct a story until you know more.

Imagine, for example, a novelist with an idea for a novel set in
the field of nature preservation. His lead is a forest ranger.
Though he has the vaguest notion of an idea -- the beginnings of a
Suppose -- he hasn't a notion exactly what forest rangers do all
day. And he must know this before he can start putting a story
together, before he can start stringing actions together for
his lead.

This chapter isn't about how to research. You know what the
various methods are, from consulting books and other written
materials in libraries to surfing the Net to conducting
informational interviews. This chapter is about how much
background research to do. How can you avoid falling into the
perpetual -- research trap, yet still learn enough to work with?

By setting out concrete questions for yourself before you even
begin. In most cases the writers who mire themselves in research
and never get to the novel itself use what I call the "immersion
approach." They read book after book, fill notebook upon
notebook with notes, in an effort to insert themselves as deeply
as possible into their subject. There is no real plan to their
work -- all books on the subject are fair game; it's impossible
to go too deep; no detail is unimportant. It's all in the name
of immersion.

If, on the other hand, you force yourself to compile a list of
questions you need answers to before you can build your story,
you've already gone a long way toward limiting the research phase.

Let's take our forest ranger example. Our hypothetical writer has
a vague notion for a thriller set in the world of nature
conservation; his Suppose is "Suppose a man [the forest ranger]
discovered that his best friend, a fellow ranger, was murdering
animals and selling their [????] on the black market."

Our writer must ask himself what basic information he needs in
order to begin devising his story. Here are some likely questions:

What animal products are sold on the black market? (Fur, skin, tusks, etc.)

Around which of these products is there likeliest to be violence/danger?

Do these people work from any sort of headquarters on or near the land they protect, or do they move about, with no central headquarters?

If they do work from a headquarters, where would it be?

What would it be like? (Building, cabin, tower.)

How many people would work in one facility? On one protected area? Are there shifts, so that protection is constant?

If there is more than one of these people, how do they communicate?

And so on. Questions lead to more questions. When the actual research begins, yet more questions inevitably arise. But the research process has been shaped into a finite project. Each question is tackled, one at a time, and when it's answered, the novelist moves on to the next one. If the novelist resists the temptation to be sidetracked, which can lead to dangerous immersion, then the background research process has a definite end, and the plotting phase can begin.

When Not to Background Research

More than once I have advised a writer faced with extensive
background research to reconsider her project entirely. In these
instances it was clear that although the writer had a strong
interest in the subject she was about to research, her absolute
lack of knowledge of this subject made research impractical;
the learning curve was too steep. To conduct the research
necessary to achieve even a rudimentary knowledge of the subject
would take so long that by the time the book itself was written,
too much time would have passed, causing too long a time span.
Publishers want books good and fast -- usually no more than a year
apart. In terms of career strategy, sometimes a project simply
isn't practical.

When I decided to write my own fiction, I knew I would write
cozy mysteries, because what I most enjoy reading is cozy
mysteries, both contemporary and historical. I was torn,
however, between two ideas.

One idea was to write a series featuring a sleuth who was a
literary agent in a present -- day New Jersey village, and who
was helped in her detecting by her cat. The other was to
feature as my detective an alchemist in medieval London. On
reflection, I realized that despite my extensive reading of
novels set in the medieval period, I would have an enormous
amount of research to do -- research that would probably have to
be added to for each novel in my series.

On the other hand, I am a literary agent, I live in a small
New Jersey town and a number of cats have owned me. For this
idea, there would be no learning curve at all. Because I'm an
agent, making my living selling books, when it comes to
decisions such as this I'm practical if nothing else. My
choice was clear. I would follow the age -- old adage "Write
what you know." Thus, Jane Stuart and Winky of Shady Hills,
New Jersey, were born.

Think hard about any project you're considering that will
require too long a research period. Sometimes, in terms of
your career, the learning curve is just too steep.

Spot Research

The other kind of research is what I call spot research. It's
the small piece of information you need at a precise moment in
the plotting or writing of your novel. What's the actual name
of rat poison? What kind of wood would that table likely be
made of? What's a town about fifteen miles south of Stamford,
Connecticut?

As with background research, writers often use an item of spot
research as an excuse to stop plotting or writing and start
searching. Entire days can be spent looking for a tiny item
of information -- days that will likely spoil the flow and momentum
of your work.

Items that require spot research are items that matter but
can wait till you're done. When you're plotting or writing
your novel and one of these items arises, don't stop; signify
that you'll have to research this later by typing [????] or
TO COME or the old journalist's expression, tk (to come).
At the same time, jot on a piece of paper that you've headed
Research and placed near your keyboard the piece of information
you'll have to find later. Thus, in your manuscript you type:

If Gail had headed south on Route 17, she'd definitely
have passed through Paramus and then [????].

And on your Research sheet you write:Town south of Paramus.

When I'm plotting or writing a novel, I force myself never
to stop to do spot research. I do all of that when my
first draft is completed and printed out. Since I don't
let myself stop to research, I have no excuse to stop
writing. I counsel the novelists I represent, especially
the ones on tight deadlines, to follow this practice, and
I counsel you to do the same.

**Evan Marshall has always loved books. His love of reading
as a child helped influence his decision to pursue a career in
the book industry. A former senior editor at Dodd, Mead, he
now heads his own literary agency. He is a nationally
acknowledged expert on the writing, selling and promoting
of novels, and is the author of the highly regarded writing
books,
The Marshall Plan for Novel Writing (Writer's Digest
Books), and
The Marshall Plan Workbook (Writer's Digest Books). He is the president of The Evan Marshall Agency,
a leading literary agency that specializes in representing
fiction writers. He has contributed articles on writing and
publishing to Writer's Digest, to which he has been a
correspondent for over a decade, and other magazines. He is
the author of Eye Language and the bestselling Jane Stuart and Winky
mysteries from Kensington Publishing Corp:
Missing Marlene,
Hanging Hannah, and
Stabbing Stephanie. Evan is a member of the Association of
Authors' Representatives, Mystery Writers of America, and
Sisters in Crime. He lives and works in Pine Brook, New
Jersey, where he is at work on the fourth Jane Stuart
mystery. His website is located at
www.thenovelist.com.